Maledicti Venator: Warhammer 40K
by Mattwho81
Summary: A young Space marine joins a squad of brothers hunting enemies far away from help. A 40K story based on the Storm Scions, a Chapter of my own design.


**Maledicti Venator**

The dank jungle was close and humid, thick with hanging vines and the buzz of insects, everywhere small animals went about their daily lives. The air was still and hushed, pregnant with tension as the feeling of a million, million eyes watching from the dark. In a small clearing brittle branches shook in strange ways that had nothing to do with the slight breeze, and the thick leaf mould stirred with the creep of beetles. Abruptly the insects swirled and scattered as the sound of a large form crashing through the branches approached. Among the vines and branches were flashes of gold and grey growing larger and larger as the intruder charged forwards and then exploded into the clearing. It was a hulking figure well over two metres tall, wrapped head to toe in thick ceramite plates and fibre motive bundles. His armour was shaded the deep cobalt of dusk across his body but the pauldrons were the grey of an oncoming storm chased with gold finish. His plate was fresh and clean cut, uncluttered by honours or service scars save for his chapter icon of an enlarged dawn star engraved slightly off centre on his left shoulder. The giant looked like he could charge across a minefield and take on a horde of foes single-handed. Just a glance at him inspired awe and terror, involuntary feelings of veneration and dread, for he was that most legendary of warriors: a Space Marine.

The Space Marine thundered across the clearing then turned back to face the jungle, bolter raised and trained before him. From the jungle came more crashing and deep booming roars of anger, then the canopy exploded outwards as a massive shape tore its way through the unresisting trunks. It was a nightmarish fusion of machine and living flesh, with six hydraulic legs supporting a boxy hull welded shut and bound with icon-carved chains. From its body spewed a profusion of barrels and whip like tendrils that lashed at the air and constantly churned almost as if hungry to grasp something warm and living in its cruel embrace. Towering over all rose a horned head with an animalistic face that gnashed and snarled at the air in a life like manner that mere metal had no right to emulate. For it was an abomination in every sense of the word, a mechanical nightmare given form: a Chaos Defiler.

The Defiler surveyed the clearing and saw the lone Space Marine standing proudly at the far end of the clearing, brandishing his bolter in a futile gesture of defiance. For a long second the two foes eyed each other then with a whir of pistons the Defiler elevated its barrels up and away. Instead of obliterating the lone Astartes with a shot from its battle cannon it flexed its whips and took a step forward, clearing wanting the pleasure of the kill up close and personal. The marine stood firm against the approach of the daemon-machine bolter seeking out weak joints and pistons despite the miniscule chance of actually inflicting harm. One step closer the Defiler came then another and another in quick succession, but then the game changed. Almost as if it had crossed an invisible trip line several things happened at once, the ground gave way beneath it dropping it several feet, a wave of dirt and debris was thrown up into the air by concussive blasts of fire and seismic booms along with a burst of light and energy. Confused and blinded by the trap sprung around it the Defiler entirely missed the emergence of new warriors into the fight. From under piles of dirt and debris they arose in a circle around the monster, each a ceramite giant matching the first Astartes in every way, save that in their hands they carried the bulky forms of ancient relic weapons: Combi-Meltas. It took three seconds to free themselves from concealment and two more to train their weapons then in a searing burst of heat and light they fired their weapons as one. Plasteel and flesh liquefied in the burning inferno of fusion fire, layers of armour melting away to reveal pulsing black organs where only gears and piston had any right to be. The Defiler screamed in pain as its internal organs cooked inside it then something vital gave way and the monster fell to the dirt convulsing and spewing foul ichors into the air.

The circle of Astartes stood vigil until the monster had finally grown still but their wariness did not lessen, they kept their weapons trained for long minutes until they were convinced that it would stir no more. Finally their sergeant held up his fist and the squad fell out into a codex pattern overwatch formation, he turned and called out "_Torren, attend me_" The first marine turned and ran across the clearing, he pulled free his helm to reveal a youthful unscarred visage before falling to one knee in deference to his commander. The Sergeant sighed, "_Torren, how many times must I tell you not to do that. You are not a scout novice anymore but a brother of the Storm Scions ninth company, stand tall and proud as an equal"_

Young Torren stood sheepishly, if that was possible in full battle plate, "_Sorry Sergeant Deparas, old habits die hard, I was merely paying my respects for saving my life, again_"

Deparas looked him up and down then growled, "_Do not give obeisance to those who merely perform their duty to Terra. The only being worthy of praise in this galaxy is the divine Emperor-blessings be upon him._" As a flush of embarrassment spread across Torren's face the sergeant suddenly grunted with a hint of amusement that let him know he was being teased. "_Come" _the sergeant chuckled from under his helm, "_Come walk with me and perhaps you can know your squad better_".

_+++In the dark jungle something was given pause, a mind that was not mind beheld a most unexpected scene. There was no thought but some instinct held it back, cunning and stealth would win where rage and fury had failed. It just needed to find its moment.+++_

As the sergeant turned Torren had a chance to examine his sergeant up close, and it was strange sight indeed. Unlike Torren's armour the sergeant's was covered in mud and leaves yet under that purity seals and scriptures praising Him on Terra remained proud, one grey shoulder was festooned with stars denoting honours won in combat and the other bore a facsimile Crux Terminatus. From his belt hung a vicious chainsword and a glorious bolt pistol, engraved with images of the god-Emperor bringing enlightenment to the masses. He was the embodiment of everything it took to be a Chapter veteran, revered and respected for his valour, the only slight blemish on this was the fact that the sergeant was fully six inches shorter than any of his brothers in arms. Some quirk of the gene-seed meant Deparas had never grown quite as tall as he should yet his litany of achievements was a thing of awe. His sheer vitality and energy in combat was almost a physical presence in itself and despite his size many grander Space Marines struggled to keep up with him. It was with some shame that Torren recalled the nicknames that had gone around the training cells of the scout barracks regarding the diminutive sergeant but having seen him in action Torren now saw those quips as callow and ignorant. Regardless of the fact that he could see clear over the sergeant's head Torren would follow this man to hell and back, even unto death.

"_So your first tour comes to its close" _said Deparas "_How are you finding serving in Pyrus squad?_"

"_Its.. erm, not entirely what I expected_" stammered Torren

"_Hah, let me guess_" chuckled Deparas, "_You thought it would be all dragging Lascannons about, blowing up tanks and smashing down fortress walls_"

"_Well I did think we'd be doing more shooting and less running_" replied Torren "_I expected we would be gunning down droves of the enemies of the Emperor-blessings be upon him._"

"_That will come young one_" said Deparas, "_But the holy Codex teaches us that ninth company are reserves, unlike those glory hogs in the battle companies we go where were needed when were needed and fight however were needed to. And right now were needed to clear up the dregs of the Deathmongers' armour that escaped from the massacre at Mennhause ridge. If we don't catch every last one that made it to cover they will torment this forsaken back-water world forever._"

Torren reflected on this for moment and dwelled on his actions over the last few months, in his short time as a full battle brother he had learnt more about demolitions, explosives and the use of munitions than he ever thought possible. Indeed Pyrus squad as a whole had a reputation for excelling at short range death dealing, whenever the Storm Scions Chapter needed something demolished or shattered they sent for Pyrus squad. So renowned had their feats become that the Masters had honoured them with the incredibly rare and revered combi bolter-melta weapons. Of course as a newcomer Torren had not yet rated enough honour to hold one let alone wield it in battle but he felt sure his day would come.

While they had been walking they had approached the corpse of the Defiler and there met another of the squad bent over its wreck. He straightened at their approach and turned to meet them, his armour was superficially similar to their but his belt hung with odd tools and his shoulders were marked deep red. Where theirs had the Chapter icon engraved his was marked with the skull and cog-wheel that marked him as an apprentice to the Techmarines and a lay-acolyte of the Cult Mechanicus. "_Hail Sergeant" _he called in a deep rich baritone.

"_Hail Hevostan_" replied Deparas, "_Report on the status of the kill_"

"_The foul denizens of the warp have tainted this shell_" said Hevostan "_I must perform the final rites, consecrate it with holy unguents and cripple the drive train or it may yet rise again. The proper rites should take twenty minutes._"

"_We have ten minutes before he have to move out_" replied Deparas

"_Well good job I know how to do it in five_" quipped Hevostan

"_I thought you might_" chuckled Deparas and then the pair of them turned away from each other. As they walked on to the perimeter of the clearing Torren turned to the sergeant, "_Is it true_" he said "_Is Hevostan to undertake his pilgrimage to Mars upon completion of this tour?_"

Deparas eyed the young marine sadly, "_Yes it's true and squad Pyrus will be poorer without his wisdom and lore_" he said, "_But how did you hear of that… oh never mind I've just figured it out_"

As they approached the perimeter they saw a pair of marines guarding the perimeter, gesturing and shaking their head in a silent argument. The sergeant marched right up to them and barked "_Attention!_" The pair shot into rigid formation, legs braced and combi-meltas held rigidly before them. The pair of them wore clean crisp armour plate, marked with laurels and kill trophies and over their helms were horizontal horsetail crests, the laurel of expert marksmanship in the Chapter.

"_Just what could be so fascinating that you two forget that you're supposed to be guarding our perimeter?_" barked Deparas.

The first of the two shifted slightly "_Sir I was just reminding Mylos here about how he lost our bet_" he said.

"_Don't listen to Pylos, sir I didn't lose anything" _the other retorted.

"_Yes you did, you bet that the young rabbit here would get squished luring in the catch_" started the first.

"_And you said he'd only loose a limb or two, they cancel each other out._" replied the second.

"_Enough!" _barked the sergeant, "_How you two ever made it to be full battle brothers is mystery that plagues my mediations. I can only conclude the masters of the scout company were feeling particularly sadistic that day to inflict you on me_"

"_Sorry sir_" said the Mylos,

"_We won't let you down sir_" said Pylos

Although the words were contrite the pair didn't seem very abashed by the drubbing down, and only saluted and turned back to guarding the perimeter. The sergeant turned and marched away Torren following behind.

"_Don't run so fast next time rabbit, I'll make it worth your while!_" called one of the pair as they walked away.

_+++The prey was distracted and flushed with victory; soon the moment would be perfect.+++_

"_Sir I don't understand what just happened_" said Torren "_I've never seen any brother treat their sergeant with such disrespect._"

Deparas sighed "_How much do you know about those two?_" he said,

"_I know their brothers, biological brothers as in twins inducted into the Chapter together_" he said.

"_Yes twins indeed, the rarest of bonds among the Astartes_" said Deparas, "_There was talk of splitting the pair up while they were in the 10__th__ company but when I saw them in action I fought tooth and nail to get them both elevated into my squad. They have a bond that transcends mere training; they fight as one soul in two bodies, the battles we've won on their marksmanship alone justifies a little back talk._" Deparas sighed, "_They dream of glory in a battle company or even serving in the first but their too lax and irreverent to be accepted by a line officer. The ninth is their place as long as they remain together and they could never bear to be separated, it would destroy the very thing that makes them special._"

Torren mused on this as they approached the next brother, this form was quite different, a towering brute of a warrior bearing empty flaps of heavy muslin sacks around its belts. The silhouette of this marine was totally unlike his brothers, where as theirs was sharp and uniform his was jagged and heavy overlade with thick plates, for it was the most ancient of patterns the mark III iron armour. He turned and addressed the pair and even Torren had to crane his neck to look up at him.

"_Hail sergeant_" said the towering brute

"_Hail Furion_" said Deparas, "_Situation report_"

"_Grim_" replied the giant Astartes, "_Five weeks in the field and we've used up all our flash-bangs, armour and personnel land mines, e-mags, plastic, mortars, haywires, seismic, Sonics, phosphorous, trip-mines and the meltas are running on fumes."_

"_Grenades?" _asked Deparas

"_No plasma, no melta, three frag, one Krak grenade and the bolters are down to two clips per man. The holy Codex states squads should withdraw to resupply at 80% weapons-out and we passed that point days ago._"

"_After my rank now Furion?_" said Deparas,

"_No sir_" replied Furion ramrod straight, "_It's not for the likes of me,_ _too much paperwork_"

"_Relax_" chuckled Deparas, "_I happen to agree with you, let me contact the Captain and well fall back to resupply_"

"_Aye Sir_" said Furion with a salute punctured by the whine of ancient servos and returned to his guard.

Deparas swiftly turned and marched on and Torren had to quicken his pace to keep up, he didn't have a chance to ask any questions before they reached the last man in their squad. This Marine bore standard Astartes Aquila plate, marked out only by a raised antenna from his backpack and extra comm units bolted to the side of his helm.

"_Persion, any word?_" called Deparas,

"_Aye sir_" came the reply in a rich, lilting accent that almost seemed too fair for the bulky form of an Astartes, "_Message relayed via comm satellite, the Captain has declared the area clear all squads are to fall back immediately_"

"_Excellent_" said Deparas, "_Signal command that we receive and will fall back at once to…"_

_+++NOW+++_

He never got to end the sentence, for suddenly the jungle exploded outward in a hurricane of debris and shrapnel. A bulky roaring creature of flesh and steel tore its way through the foliage tearing up tree trunks like kindling. It towered over the clearing, spraying vile fluids and gnashing it teeth in rage. Its very presence was an abomination and sight to loosen the bowels of mortal men, for it was the vilest of creations: a second Defiler.


End file.
